


be still and know

by anna_kat



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Grace Ward - Freeform, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-13
Updated: 2014-10-13
Packaged: 2018-02-20 21:58:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2444645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anna_kat/pseuds/anna_kat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>“I should be able to help her, I’m her mother. I’m supposed to make her feel safe and comfortable and happy, and I can’t and I don’t know what to do-” Her voice cracks and she tries rocking the squealing little bundle in her arms some more.</em>
</p><p>Grant and Jemma have a rough night with their daughter, who's feeling colicky and not at all sleepy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	be still and know

Jemma knows it’s not her fault, nor Grant’s fault. She knows, very logically, that it isn’t anyone’s fault. Babies get fussy and sometimes they don’t sleep and sometimes they’re colicky. There’s really no one to blame.

But when she can’t get her two-month old daughter to stop crying in the middle of the night no matter how hard she tries, Jemma finds herself on the verge of tears and feeling like a failure for maybe the first time in her life.

“Jemma,” Grant says quietly, her name leaving his mouth in a cloud of both warning and concern. “Jem, it’s _okay_.”

The biochemist sniffles softly, turning her back to him to try and hide her face. “It’s not. It’s not okay.”

The bed squeaks a little and then he’s come around to stand in front of her. One hand lays gently against the baby’s head and the other cups Jemma’s cheek, thumb brushing away an escaped tear. “It is. Babies cry sometimes.”

“I should be able to help her, I’m her mother. I’m supposed to make her feel safe and comfortable and happy, and I can’t and I don’t know what to do-” Her voice cracks and she tries rocking the squealing little bundle in her arms some more.

“I’m her father.” Grant offers slowly, and Jemma raises her head to look him in the eye. “Are you upset with me for not being able to help her?”

“Of course not, you’re doing your best and-” She breaks off again, biting her lip when she hears her own words. Shaking her head while tired eyes slip shut for the briefest of moments, Jemma starts to pace the short length of the room again. “It’s just,” She feels Grant’s fingers brush her back for a moment when she passes. “When she cries like this, it… it breaks my heart.”

He doesn’t know what to say that they haven’t said for the past two hours. Instead, he just steps in front of Jemma and holds his arms out. “Let me try again for awhile.”

She nods, trying to untangle their daughter’s fingers from her hair. Still sniffling a little, she adjusts the baby in her arms so she can pass her over. “You should take your shirt off, she likes skin-to-skin contact. It makes her feel safe.”

Grant tugs his t-shirt over his head, giving Jemma a grin and a raised eyebrow. She responds with an exhausted laugh, and it lifts some of the weight from both their shoulders. He carefully lifts the baby, turning her so he can press her chest to his. “Come here, gorgeous.”

She quiets for almost a full ten minutes, then begins her build up to full-blown crying. An hour and a half later, the clock by the bed reads 4:51 am, Grant’s sort of surprised that his arms haven’t given out yet, and he’s also a little concerned over Jemma’s emotional state at the moment.

“Jem,” He starts for the millionth time, trying to use his most soothing voice. Her face is scrunched up, pale cheeks splotchy red even though she hasn’t actually shed tears yet. (He’s been watching closely.) “You can go to bed. Take a break for awhile and rest. It’s alright.”

She exhales sharply and presses her palms over her eyes. “You can’t take a break from being a parent.”

Grant opens his mouth and shuts it again, sways on the spot to try and appease the baby. He’s not sure what he should say, which happens more often than he’d like.

It doesn’t seem to matter much, because she takes her hands away from her face, running one through her hair, and looks up at him from her seat on the bed. “I told you. I told you when we found out, and I told you when she was born, and I told you a hundred times in between. _I told you_ I wouldn’t be a good mother. I’m not built for it.”

It’s been all night, and he can hear the sounds of who he thinks must be Coulson and May moving about to start their day. His daughter is cradled in the crook of his arm, still awake and hiccupping softly. _His Jemma doesn’t think she’s a good mother._

Keeping the baby close to his chest, he climbs onto the bed, pressing his back to the wall and laying her on the mattress. A gentle hand then reaches for Jemma, turning her to face them. “Lay down.” He says softly.

She scrubs roughly at her face, and she looks so very tired, so very upset. “Grant.”

He raises his eyebrows, reaches over the baby to pat the bed. “Lay down, Jemma.” When she still hesitates, he drifts his fingers down her arm and tangles them with her own. “We’ve been trying separately. Let’s try this, okay? Lay down with us and we can all rest.”

Any argument seems to _whoosh_ right out of her, and she pulls her legs up, carefully stretching them out over his calves. She sort of collapses onto the bed the rest of the way, her forehead pressed to Grant’s.

Almost instantly, their daughter’s hand grasps a fistful of Jemma’s tank top, and she grows quiet.

Jemma’s eyes go wide for a moment before they drop shut and open only about half way. Surprise, overshadowed by the exhaustion coating the room’s occupants.

Grant smiles softly at her. “See? She’s fine. We’re fine. You’re a wonderful mother because you love her and care for her and want the best for her. Not being able to get her to sleep when she gets colip-”

“Colic.” Jemma corrects with a low chuckle.

“-right, when she has colic, that doesn’t mean you’re not a good mother. It means she’s fussy. We’ll get through it together. We can do it.”

She still looks like she’s doubting herself, but he can see some of the concerns leave her like tension leaving muscles. “Alright.” She agrees, tipping her head up to kiss him long and slow.

“Good.” He agrees, blinking away the haze her kisses always leave him in. “Get some sleep, then, okay?”

She’s drifting off almost instantly, just like their daughter curled between them. It’s that beautiful sight that allows Grant to finally give in to sleep too.


End file.
